


Just call it regret.

by Ariasune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Peri-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 00:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8035252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariasune/pseuds/Ariasune
Summary: If you must give it a name, then call it regret.





	Just call it regret.

“I’m sorry,” The Nameless Pharaoh says, but he may as well be speaking to an empty desert for all the response he has. “Spirit—” Nothing to that, so he tries twice. “Bakura,” There is a soft grunt of acknowledgement, and hope brightening in his chest, the Nameless Pharaoh repeats: “I _am_ sorry.”

Bakura looks up from his bruised wrists, gaze lidded with boredom. “I’m sure,” he drawls, returning to rubbing at the ugly purple stains along the skin. The Nameless Pharaoh watches him a moment longer, before looking away, nausea prickling in the quick of him. A funny squirm of discomfort in the pit of his stomach.

“He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The bored look fixes on him again, Bakura’s nose scrunching up sharply. “Then, why are you apologizing?” Scoffing, Bakura inspects a wet looking burn on his bare chest, picking at the drying flesh. “It’s not like you did this.” There is a faraway touch to Bakura’s eyes, pupils glassy. At first, the Nameless Pharaoh thinks maybe the pain is glazing them, turning the vicious if brilliant mind to translucency—

And then, he doesn’t make sense again.

“You never mean to hurt anyone, do you, Pharaoh.”

It’s not a question, but the Nameless Pharaoh answers anyway. Truthful, if ashamed, “That’s not true. I hurt Kaiba deeply. I meant to do that.”

“Idiot,” Bakura rolls his eyes, the gesture quick and derisive, even with a deep bruise in blood-red and amethyst-purple across the left side of his face. “It’s always someone else doing the hurting. Always someone else’s hands. Always someone else’s blood.” The look is distant again. “I know you.”

It’s said so familiar, so angrily, that the Nameless Pharaoh can only imagine who this was to him. An angry noble robbed of his birthright. Some warrior from a feuding Kingdom. A rebellious soldier. Or is it more personal? The sheer violence of Bakura’s repeated, unending efforts to rip him soul from heart from skin from bone — it seems so personal.

A younger brother jealous for the crown. A childhood friend at ethical odds. A blasphemous priest renouncing the Pharaoh’s divinity. A jilted lover.

Uncertain, far more uncertain than he can let show, the Nameless Pharaoh gets to his feet and moves to Bakura’s side. There is an immediate startle, like a wild animal pulling in a trap, but he takes Bakura’s wrists in his hands and studies where the handcuffs have scored the skin raw.

Angry, snarling, Bakura starts, coiling his legs up to protect himself, “What are—”

“I’m sorry.” There are burn marks, knife marks, the promise of scars on Bakura, especially behind his eyes where the pain smarts brightest. Both of them naked, the stink of sex neither of them participated in settled on what is only borrowed skin, and here, they should be vulnerable enough that surely Bakura will simply take the concern for what it is. “Other Me was drunk, and - frankly - stupid. Things got carried away between him and Ryou-” A pause. “Your host. This wasn’t meant to hurt you. Let me make things right between us.”

Bakura’s expression is closed. Locked tight between a grim smile, teeth bared. Grinning like there is something unbearably hilarious in what the Nameless Pharaoh has said. Like there is some joke in it, and it’s _not funny_ , and he stared at Bakura in accusation.

Still smiling, Bakura’s eyes slide closed, looking nearly drunk with satisfaction. “Things can never be made right between us.”

He touches a searing burn, and murmurs, “You will need to tell me about that one day.”

“One day,” Bakura agrees, as close to submission as he has ever heard from this Spirit.


End file.
